


Insufferable Bureaucracy (the multi-chapter version)

by arrowcreates



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Backrubs, Being Walked In On, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Nonbinary Beelzebub (Good Omens), Other, Partial Nudity, Possessive Gabriel, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Wing Grooming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-08-23 10:30:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrowcreates/pseuds/arrowcreates
Summary: A longer version of my 5+1 things one-shot Insufferable Bureaucracy, since a few people asked and I wanted to do this anyway. It's basically going to just be more detailed at the beginning, and then once I reach the point where the original ended I'll get further into what happens after.This one will still contain the scenes and elements of the 5+1 trope, but obviously the plan is to add more than just those.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Armageddon was supposed to Happen. Armageddon did not Happen. So much paperwork.

The days following the Armageddon That Had Failed, Hell and Heaven both were experiencing what the earthlings might call 'technical difficulties,' which is to say there was generally chaos everywhere. Up in Heaven, the Archangels were having a difficult time explaining exactly why the angels were Not going to war after all. Michael, Gabriel, and Uriel did not want the masses to know that the Antichrist himself had refused to do his job. Michael was worried that if word got out about Tadfield Air Base, some of the angels might go after the child. While that would certainly kickstart a war between the two powers, it would also force the Archangels to cast out whoever hurt the boy. That would look awful on paperwork.

In Hell, things were progressing at a similar pace. One could make the argument that it was much harder to convince armies of bloodthirsty demons to stand down and go back to their desk jobs. One would be entirely correct in making that argument. Dagon, Beelzebub, and the Dukes of Hell had also agreed not to expose the Antichrist, after one particularly violent meeting. Beelzebub did not particularly care one way or the other about paperwork, but if the Antichrist was harmed, they would take the blame for not corraling the offending demons. Beelzebub had no desire to be permanently destroyed. 

They did, however, desire to figure out exactly how the traitor Crowley had survived Heaven's Holy Weapon. This was why they had contacted Archangel Gabriel to meet them in St. James Park. This is where they were currently waiting. 

What Beelzebub had not yet been made aware of was that Aziraphale had also survived his encounter with Hellfire. They were going to discover this fact momentarily. 

By momentarily, of course, one can infer that almost as soon as Gabriel popped into the park beside them, Beelzebub noticed a familiar white-haired figure across the park. 

Gabriel opened his mouth to greet Beelzebub, then snapped it shut as the Prince of Hell turned and delivered a swift kick to his shin. "Why didn't you tell me the angel had survived?" They hissed. 

To his credit, Gabriel did not flinch at the assault, or show any outward sign that it had hurt a little. "There really was no time," he explained, as a teacher might explain to an insolent child why they must do their maths. "We have been doing damage control, trying to prevent word from getting out that the Antichrist is the reason there will be no war." 

Beelzebub rolled their eyes. A fly landed on Gabriel's collar. "I suppose it doesn't matter," they said. "We have to figure out how those two morons survived their executions." 

"For once we are in agreement," Gabriel replied. He gestured to the pond Aziraphale stood in front of, where the ducks waited patiently for their food. "Shall we?" 

Beelzebub pointed off to the side, where a hot dog cart stood parked next to a sizeable tree. "Over there. We can't just walk up to them. "Hello, traitors, fancy seeing you here, how did you not permantently discorporate?"" The sarcasm in Beelzebub's tone was so heavy even Gabriel picked up on it. 

He sighed and walked off, making his way towards the tree and stand. Beelzebub trailed after him, wondering why he wore such visible clothes. It would be easy for the angel to spot him, if he happened to turn around. This was part of the reason they chose to wear black, though they also knew looked good in it and didn't have to worry about temperatures. 

Once the pair were safely ensconced behind the tree and cart, they watched Aziraphale throw small handfuls of corn into the water. He did this for several minutes, until someone called to him. Crowley came jogging down the path, skidding to a stop in front of the angel. Beelzebub and Gabriel watched as Crowley, red-faced, handed Aziraphale what looked to be a book. 

Judging by Aziraphale's reaction, which was bouncing exitedly and hugging the demon, Beelzebub assumed it must have been a rare one. Then again, they didn't really know much about books. "What a ninny," they muttered. 

Gabriel glowered at them. "Watch your tongue," he snapped. "Aziraphale is still my brother." 

"And yet you tried to kill him with Hellfire," Beelzebub retorted. They watched Gabriel's face darken, and for an instant wondered if this was the look he had on his face when he was about to smite someone. A few clouds they hadn't noticed before cast shadows over the sun. 

Whatever Gabriel had been about to say was interrupted by a flock of ducks passing overhead, squawking loudly as they landed in the pond. Beelzebub snorted at the look on his face. Gabriel just turned back toward the traitors, ignoring Beelzebub entirely. 

The Prince of Hell focused in on Crowley, determined to suss out his secrets. A demon surviving holy water was literally unheard of; it was the one thing that could completely destroy them, and yet Crowley had treated it as a bath. As they watched him interact with Aziraphale, several possibilities entered their head, most of which were immediately cast aside (there was simply no way Crowley had switched spirits with a human, he had been far too calm for that).

In the end, Beelzebub could come up with only three feasible explanations: Crowley had simply gone native, he had found something to counteract the holy effects of the water, or his presumed relationship with Aziraphale (and whatever sort of intimacy it may entail) had resulted in him developing an immunity to the holy water. 

Gabriel seemed to be doing his own theorizing on it, wringing his scarf in his hands as he puzzled. Eventually, he spoke up. "You said in your message that Crowley had absolutely no reaction," he stated. "Not even a flinch?" 

"Not a damn thing. He splashed water onto the window. In front of thirty demons! The damage control was awful," Beelzebub complained. 

"Aziraphale responded similarly to the Hellfire," Gabriel admitted. "I think we must assume that whatever happened, they both played a part in it." 

Beelzebub noticed that the fly on Gabriel's collar was now perched on his shoulder. "No shit. Did nothing unusual happen while he was in the fire?" 

Gabriel apparently had to think about it, the idiot. "Well. There was one thing. He blew fire at us. Like those experimental animals the Almighty had us make in the beginning. I think She called them dragons?" 

"Angels don't breathe fire," Beelzebub pointed out. "You must've been seeing things. Maybe the Hellfire fucked up your brain." 

There was a holler off to their right, and they turned to see an officer walking toward them. "Hey! What are you doing by that cart?" 

Beelzebub drew themself up to their full 5'3" height (minus the hat and heels, which put them at 5'8) and sneered at the man. "None of your concern, you pesky little-" 

Gabriel clamped a hand over their mouth, ignoring how they growled and struggled. He smiled at the officer. "Our apologies, sir," he said. "We are spying on my brother. We mean no harm, we were just leaving." He put a little heavenly power behind the words just enough to convince the officer that they were walking away. 

The poor man's eyes hazed over as Gabriel's words took effect, and he turned and shambled off without another word. At that moment, Beelzebub managed to bite two of his fingers, hard. 

He released them with a shove. "Ow! You fiend!" He inspected his hand, which was bleeding and had teeth marks on his index and middle fingers. 

Before he could miracle the wound away, Beelzebub elbowed him in the side and jerked their head toward the park entrance. "They're leaving, let's go!" Gabriel elbowed them back as the two took off at a brisk pace. A drop of blood fell from Gabriel's hand as they left the hot dog cart, and a white butterfly hit the ground before fluttering away. 

Crowley and Aziraphale were walking opposite the direction Crowley had originally come from, which led Beelzebub to believe they were walking either to a bookshop or a human food establishment. Indeed there seemed to be many quaint restaurants nearby. 

As they walked, Beelzebub concealed their form, morphing their image into that of a human woman. Though they couldn't change their height using just a glamour, they made sure the woman had heels the same height as their boots. "Make yourself look different," they ordered Gabriel. 

"I will not look like some brutish human," Gabriel refused.

Beelzebub bared their teeth. Bloody angels! Always so vain. "Fine, you stubborn-headed mule's ass! Mark my words, this is going to turn on you." They stalked further ahead, to get away from him. Why had they agreed to work with this idiot?

They followed the pair for a decent while, Crowley appearing to be leading Aziraphale somewhere. At one point Aziraphale laughed at something Crowley had said, turning his head to look at the snake demon. Beelzebub realized, however, that his head was turned too far to just be looking at Crowley. A chilling realization hit them, and they stopped. 

Gabriel smacked into them as they turned around. "The angel is looking at us," they warned. "Follow my lead." 

Being a demon, it should be noted that Beelzebub could have spirited them away. There wasn't time. Also being a demon, Beelzebub should have been able to stop time, as all celestial and former celestial beings had been known to occasionally do. They were woefully out of practice. Somehow, it never occurred to them to ask Gabriel. 

Unfortunately, they were a demon, and the first thing to occur to a demon to get out of a situation is to look human. This is something angels don't often like to do.

That being said, they didn't think to apologize beforehand, or to even warn Gabriel. The first thing they did was yank him down by his scarf and press their lips to his. 

They would be lying if they said kissing the angel didn't make them want to gag and maybe even be discorporated. His bloody lips were too soft and he was far too stiff to be of absolutely any use. Once they were certain Aziraphale wasn't looking, they shoved him back and spat on the ground. 

Gabriel was glaring at them, a light pink dusting his cheeks. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "How dare you," he seethed. "There were better ways to throw them off." 

"I'm a demon, dumbass. We know how to avoid the suspicion of angels, and that little trick is one of those ways. I would expect an angel to know this," Beelzebub sassed. "You taste disgusting, by the way." 

He grimaced. "Like you taste any better. We must find them." 

Beekzebub shook their head. "They're gone. I can't sense Crowley's presence anymore. Either they zapped away or they've been warded." 

"Where do you suppose they went?" 

"Probably that silly little bookshop the angel has. No doubt the place is too guarded for us to get close enough to learn anything. Crowley wouldn't be stupid enough to let anyone near after the executions." Beelzebub crossed their arms as they let their disguise wear away. 

Gabriel rolled his shoulders. "I suppose we will have to monitor them elsehow, now that we have been caught," he said. 

Beelzebub's eyes narrowed. "No, you were the one who got caught, Gabriel. Nothing would have happened if you'd just disguised yourself. For Satan's sake, Gabe, haven't they taught you up there that vanity is a sin?" 

They saw Gabriel puff up, but before he could respond, they miracled themself back to their office in Hell. They leaned back in their chair with a groan. "What a blithering idiot!" They muttered, raking a hand through their hair. 

In a little sushi shop a few windows down from where Beelzebub had vanished, Aziraphale stared out the window. Crowley, who had been talking about one of his ailing plants, noticed his friend's lack of focus and paused. "Angel?" He asked. "What's wrong?" 

Aziraphale blinked, looking at him now. "Sorry, my dear," he said. "While we were walking here, I thought I saw Gabriel behind us. But I don't suppose it would have been him." 

Crowley reached for his wine glass. "Why wouldn't it be him, angel? I wouldn't be surprised if they were spying on us after that little stunt we pulled." He took a long pull from the glass. 

"Whomever I saw was kissing a woman," Aziraphale explained. "That's why it couldn't be Gabriel. He would never kiss anyone, heavenly or otherwise." 

"Ah, well, angel. If you're so sure it wasn't him, I suppose it can't have been. Look, here comes the food now, I think."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's food involved. Gabriel doesn't want food to be involved, but it's there anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 updates in 2 days? The author must be crazy!
> 
> You're damn fucking right I am.
> 
> AKA, the author got home from work and started working on this because hyperfixation kicked their teeth in, then woke up and finished working on it.

Two weeks later saw Gabriel and Beelzebub spying again, this time at the Ritz. Beelzebub had miracled themself into a tall, slender young man. Across the table, Gabriel sulked in the disguise of a elegantly-dressed young lady in a business suit. A plate of veal sat in front of Beelzebub, mostly eaten. They were never particularly fond of meats, but the waitress would have been suspicious had they not ordered something. A salad sat in front of Gabriel, dry and untouched.

Several tables away, Aziraphale and Crowley seemed to be discussing something rather serious. Beelzebub, who admittedly lacked their usual hearing with the current glamour, had been relying mainly on Gabriel. 

"I still say I could have been a man, as well," the latter now complained. He had been grumpy the whole time they had been here, likely because it had been several hours and his brother showed no sign of leaving. 

"What is you attachment to being male, Gabriel?" Beelzebub demanded in exasperation. "We're bloody immortal, we have no such boundaries." 

He huffed in reply. "I have no attachment to the gender," he insisted. "I merely hate human clothing. It all itches too much. As a male, I can wear my suits." 

Beelzebub actually laughed at that. "Hell, you're so vain! You haven't even eaten anything. It's making us look suspicious" 

"I will not sully the temple of my celestial body with gross matter." 

They leaned forward and stabbed a fork into the salad. "It's lettuce! You could miracle it away, or uningest it, or whatever the fuck Aziraphale does with his food." 

Naturally, the waitress chose that particular time to make an appearance. She surveyed the scene in front of her with a concerned look. "Is everything going alright, sir?" 

Beelzebub smiled up at her as they leaned back. "Everything is fine, thank you. My darling here hasn't been very hungry today. Big breakfast, you know." 

The waitress nodded like she understood perfectly. Perhaps she did. Beelzebub didn't know or care. "More wine for you, sir?" 

"That would be lovely." 

After the waitress had left to retrieve the wine, Gabriel blinked slowly and said, "Please never act pleasant again." 

Beelzebub was so startled at the fact that he seemed to be joking that it didn't occur to them to feel insulted. Instead they simply shoved the salad toward him and muttered, "Eat something, damn it." 

Gabriel sighed and inspected the bowl. Beelzebub knew he couldn't tell what was in it, probably because he had never eaten anything in his life. All Beelzebub could see was lettuce and tomato, maybe some onion. Beyond that, they had no clue what the meal contained. He surprised them by reaching for the fork and holding it up, perhaps taking a closer look at the piece of lettuce they had speared. "It does not look particularly appetizing," he ventured. 

Beelzebub shrugged and gestured to the veal. "You could always go for meat," they offered, half joking. Gabriel stared at it and made a disgusted face. "Yeah, thought not. Go on then, it won't kill you." 

Quite suddenly, he perked up and glanced behind him, dropping the fork and completely ignoring what they had said. They rolled their eyes and leaned forward again, picking up the fork. "What are they talking about this time?"

"The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter. It is an extremely rare book that Aziraphale had assured me he had never seen before. They speak of someone who has a copy."

"Sounds boring," Beelzebub remarked. "Besides, all those prophecy books are garbage, made by nutcases or scams. It's impressive, really, how many people fall for them."

Gabriel shook his head. "Of course you cannot understand how extraordinary a book it is. You do not read," he reminded them. "This particular book of prophecies is said to be the only one in which every prophecy has come true or will. Even I have never read it. Only a handful of copies were ever made. I wonder where Aziraphale managed to get his hands on one." 

Beelzebub, of course, had at least heard of Agnes Nutter and her prophecies. It had been rather big news all those years ago, when she had been burned and killed her murderers. They, however, chose not to put much stock into it. After all, the world had been prophesied to end, and look how that had gone. "I doubt it matters," they said. 

He turned back toward them to find them holding the fork directly in front of his face, staring at him intently. "Beelzebub, this is not necessary," he tried to insist. 

At this point, they knew it did not matter to their cover story if he ate anything or not. They simply wanted to see if they could coax him into doing it. That being the case, they would not stop until either he gave in or Crowley and Aziraphale left. The waitress made another appearance, but this time she seemed to know what was going on. She did not try to talk; she poured their wine and walked off to tend to other tables. Beelzebub made a mental note to leave her a decent tip for putting up with them both. "It won't kill you, Gabe," they promised, nudging it closer to his face. 

They could tell he wanted to argue; it was in his nature to disagree with what they said. Hereditary enemies and all that crap. They weren't expecting him to give in so quickly, they weren't sure why he did, but he leaned forward and carefully pulled the lettuce off the fork with his teeth. It looked incredibly dumb as he chewed the food, trying not to grimace as he swallowed. "Happy now?" He asked. 

Oddly enough, they were. In a way, he had done it because they had asked him to (not that they would ever stoop so low as to asking an angel to do something), and it filled them with a strange kind of pleasure, knowing they had sort of tempted him to do something. "Yes, actually," they responded honestly. His face wrinkled in surprise. 

Across the room, Crowley stood up. Aziraphale remained seated as Crowley sauntered off, and Beelzebub quickly formulated a plan. "I'll be right back, Crowley's on the move." They were out of their seat before Gabriel had a chance to respond. Beelzebub kept a calm, steady pace as they walked to the loo. 

They rounded the corner as Crowley stepped out of the loo, shaking his hands dry. Beelzebub offered a nod, as they had seen human men do on occasion. Crowley nodded back, but walked away too quickly for them to say anything. They cursed, then stood for several moments trying to think of something else. 

Apparently they took too long, because Gabriel slipped into the hall with them, followed shortly after by Aziraphale. Beelzebub knew instinctively that Gabriel had no idea Aziraphale was behind him, so they smiled at him and said, "Darling, I thought you were waiting at the table?" Once again they felt Aziraphale's eyes on them as they leaned down and pressed a kiss to Gabriel's lips. They nearly gagged again, but fortunately it didn't seem as awful as the time before had been. 

"You two are such a lovely couple," Aziraphale commented, not noticing Gabriel's disgruntled expression. "Have you been together long?" 

Gabriel, perhaps seeking his own form of petty revenge, butted in before they could speak. "Almost 5 years. Right, my dear?" 

Beelzebub wrapped an arm around his waist, pinching his side as they nodded. "Yes, just a month away now. I must say, sir, I couldn't help notice the man you were sitting with earlier? Your husband, perhaps?"

Aziraphale flushed and wrung his hands. "Oh, no, I'm afraid not," he admitted. "Perhaps some day. For now we are merely friends." 

Gabriel and Beelzebub shared a look. They had not been expecting that. "If I may be blunt, I say go for it," Gabriel chimed in, surprising Beelzebub and Aziraphale both. "I think you two would make a great pair." 

Aziraphale thanked them both as Crowley reappeared. "Angel, I've finished paying for the meal, are you ready to go?" He asked. He wore his sunglasses, of course, but Beelzebub knew he was staring right at them. In that instant, they were sure their cover had been blown. They had to get out, immediately, before Crowley exposed them. 

"Let's go, love, I'm sure your father is waiting for us by now," they told Gabriel. He, probably noticing the sudden stress in the room, nodded. The pair walked swiftly away and around another corner. Beelzebub let their disguise fall away and leaned against the wall. "That was surprisingly stressful." 

"Why did we retreat?" Gabriel demanded. He seemed irritated he didn't get more time to interrogate his brother. "A while longer and we would have had relevant information!"

Beelzebub groaned. "I'm quite certain Crowley recognized me, even with my disguise," they explained. "We'll need to regroup and try again."

Gabriel returned to his own form now as well, scaring an older lady down the hall. He readjusted his suit casually, as if he weren't too terribly grateful to be back in it. Beelzebub knew better. "I suggest we go to my office and come up with a new plan." 

"Nope." Gabriel blinked as they continued. "Absolutely not. I will not set foot up there unless I'm there for the centennial meeting. You will either come to me in Hell or not at all," they stated.

Their voice brooked no room for argument, but Gabriel tried anyway. "This is absolutely demeaning, I will not. I am an archangel, we do not kowtow to demons." He crossed his arms and glared down at them. 

"And I am the Prince of Hell. Just because you're the Archangel Fucking Gabriel doesn't give you special treatment, ya know. What, worried you'll get lost? Pop into the wrong office?" 

"Of course not! I can find my way around Hell just fine!" 

Beelzebub flashed a wolf-like grin, baring their teeth. They knew they had him. "Excellent," they said. "I'll see you there, then." 

They popped back into their office in Hell laughing like a maniac and scaring the hell out of poor Dagon. How was that for showing up an angel? 

Quite a ways down the hall, there was a a flash of white, followed by various screams. Beelzebub cursed colorfully, knowing immediately what had just occurred, and then went to do damage control. Stupid angels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this up on my laptop, which won't tell me how many words this chapter is until I post it. That being said, I did change a few things from the one-shot, because I thought about it and couldn't honestly not see Crowley spending decades talking about his glasses. Also, the whole 'feeding each other' trope is kinda lame but I can't help loving it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interoffice relationship takes a turn for the spicy. Maybe mistakes are made. Maybe they aren't mistakes at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: PARTIAL NUDITY IN THIS CHAPTER, PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION. 
> 
> Also heads up, this is a super long fucking chapter that goes way more into detail than I ever intended. If you'd prefer to read the condensced version, go to my profile and find the original one-shot, this scene will be roughly halfway down the page, maybe a little further.
> 
> I've literally never written a multi-chapter fic so quickly before, but this ship has made me its bitch and is threatening to discorporate me if I don't make it happen.

As far as time went, Beelzebub sucked at keeping track of it. This was not news to them, or anyone else; most demons were when they stayed in Hell most of the time.

By their best guess, however, roughly a week had passed since their lunch at the Ritz when Gabriel suddenly appeared in their office. He appeared in their spare chair somehow, which surprised them because last time he had come to Hell he had ended up in Hastur's office. 

"For Satan's sake, Gabriel!" They hissed. They had been trying to get some work done, but of course they never had any peace around here. At this rate, they would have to outsource to Amaymon again. "A little warning would be nice next time. You're sitting on Dagon's latest report." 

Gabriel snapped his fingers and the stack of papers appeared on the desk, perfectly uncrumpled. He didn't sound very apologetic as he said, "Sorry." 

Beelzebub sighed, grabbing the papers and standing. They crossed the desk and walked over to the file cabinet, patting their cap out of habit. They preferred to dress more casual when in their own office, and as such had discarded the sash and other accoutrement they usually wore around. Their subjects knew better than to comment on it. "I'm amazed you even found my office this time." 

Gabriel shuddered. "I doubt anyone needed a repeat of last time I came down here," he said. 

"Yes, you discorporated some of my best warriors. A few are still angry with me about that. Now, what are you doing here, Gabriel?" They asked tiredly. 

The cabinet drawer came open with a slight screech of metal. Gabriel didn't answer at first, and Beelzebub began to wonder if he was ignoring the question. 

"I suppose you could call it a scholarly pursuit," he said finally.

This piqued Beelzebub's interest. "Questions are dangerous around here, Archangel Gabriel," they reminded him. "Even more so upstairs." They noticed he looked distinctly uncomfortable, which was very unlike him, and while no small part of them took great pleasure in that, another tiny part almost felt pity for him. "Speak your question." 

"Why are you so comfortable with displays of human affection?" Gabriel blurted out. He looked uncharacteristically disturbed, as though the thought if even asking them about it was too disgusting to comprehend. 

Beelzebub scoffed. "Demons are creatures of sin, idiot. Temptations are our specialty, especially carnal temptations. We can sense lust, after all. And anyway, we only deal with certain kinds of temptation. You know that." 

"Yes, I do. I meant premarital or extramarital affairs and the like. Do you never think about how temptations may affect others?" Gabriel asked. Beelzebub began to have an inkling of what was truly bothering him. 

"That is all we think about as demons. It's harder than you may think, tempting someone. Humans are surprisingly stubborn on occasion, but we demons do our job and we do it well." Beelzebub rifled through the files to find the appropriate place for Dagon's report. "Only an angel would be such a pansy about something so simple."

"You were an angel once," Gabriel reminded them softly.

Their expression hardened as they glared back at them. "That was a long time ago, Gabriel, and you know I don't remember that. I suggest you proceed very carefully." 

Gabriel sighed heavily, an expression of discomfort unbefitting his status as an archangel. "Michael has spoken before of desires the human body experiences, carnal needs that ultimately lead to sin. As a demon, you are more familiar with them than I." 

"Are you... asking me to fuck you?" They closed the file cabinet and turned around, leaning against it.

"Almighty above, absolutely not!" Gabriel cried, looking horrified at the thought. "Not at all. I was merely stating that I do not see the appeal to them. Uriel went so far as to suggest I spy on humans, if I was so committed to rooting out sin." 

Beelzebub stared at him blankly. "Where are you going with this, Gabriel?" 

Gabriel had the grace to look vaguely flustered. "You are the only demon I regularly speak with. You are also the Prince of Hell. Naturally, it stands to reason that you may have files somewhere I could read that would clue me in as to why humans so often sin in such a way." 

They realized that they had a delicious opportunity to fuck with him here, but they would have to tread carefully. Gabriel had to know what he had just done, they thought. But judging by his expression, maybe he didn't have a clue. They really couldn't say that surprised them. 

They crossed the room to another cabinet and wrenched it open, reaching over and locking the door as they did. It wouldn't do to be caught in a compromising position with an archangel; even Beelzebub knew how that would end. "I might have something," they said. "We tend to keep paperwork on our jobs, though it's been a while since I went up there for work..." 

Gabriel began drumming his fingers on the desk. He must have been picking up more from his time with them than they'd thought; from what they knew, angels didn't fidget unless they spent time Earthside. "Wonderful. I could have gone to Aziraphale, probably, but I really doubt I could have gotten near enough without being discorporated." 

Beelzebub snorted. "Crowley would've blasted you to pieces," they agreed. They plucked a file from the drawer and slid it shut, carrying it over and setting it on the desk. "Now, the way I see it, you've got two options." 

Gabriel paused as he was reaching for the folder. Warily, he asked, "What options are those?" 

"You could read the file. It goes into delightful detail about my last case." Gabriel's face scrunched for a fraction of a second before smoothing out again. 

He set his hand down on the desk, close enough to grab the file if he chose to. "And the other choice?" 

Beelzebub grinned wickedly as they slid onto Gabriel's lap, straddling him as best as the chair allowed. His face flushed and he grabbed the sides of their upper thighs instinctively to keep them from falling. "Or," they continued, "you can take a lesson from me." 

He swallowed heavily. They didn't expect his eyes to flick down and then back up to theirs, but it certainly made things easier. It might have been instinct, sure, but they doubted it. He didn't look scared, he looked embarrassed. 

They leaned down to rest their elbows on his shoulders, locking their hands together behind his head. "Last chance, Gabriel. Yes or no?" they whispered. They were mere centimetres apart now. 

They expected him to say no, push them off and maybe have a little rant about how no demon could tempt him. They expected... divine retribution or something, they weren't quite sure. 

They weren't expecting his hands to tighten on their hips, or the barely out-of-breath "Yes." They smiled again, a real one this time, as they inched forward and kissed him. 

Unlike the first two times, where survival and instinct had dictated their moves, Beelzebub was fully aware of what they were doing this time around. They could feel his hands, gripping their thighs with an almost bruising strength, how tense he was. They could hear the ragged breath he drew in through his nose. They could smell him, of course they could, vanilla and printer paper. They could feel his stupidly, imhumanly soft lips dragging against theirs. 

They unclasped their hands and slid one into the hair at the back of his neck, tugging softly. The noise he made in response was downright sinful. Knowing they had caused it, caused all of this, sparked a fire in them. 

Now Gabriel slowly began to reciprocate, still unsure of how to move. For once Beelzebub was not annoyed at how slow he was to catch on; he was very new to the idea of temptations, after all. They turned their head slightly to the side, snorting as their noses bumped together. 

They pulled back a hair. "You need to move more," they muttered. "Open your mouth a little bit." Gabriel complied without hesitation, and they pushed forward again. The kiss deepened. They tugged on his hair again and slid their other hand down his chest, and he pulled them forward in response. He learned quickly; soon the playing field had leveled a bit, and it was all Beelzebub could do to remember why they had started this. 

Once they got past the fact they were making out with an archangel, they were surprised to find they enjoyed it quite a bit. His lips were still irritatingly soft and smooth, like a statue, but when they moved it felt less like kissing marble and more like kissing a human. 

At some point his hands began to wander. One crept up to their waist, a couple of fingers sliding underneath their shirt. His skin was hot where it touched theirs. The other hand went even higher, coming to rest by their shoulder, where one of their wings would be folded if they were currently in this plane. They shuddered as his fingers brushed feathers he couldn't feel.

Eventually, they pulled away. Not because they needed air, but because they knew they risked going too far. With Gabriel touching their wings, they stood a chance of doing more than just kissing him. Even on a job, they made sure none of the humans touched their back. There was a jagged cliff there, and Beelzebub was perilously close to finding out what lay at the bottom. 

Gabriel had his eyes closed for several seconds after they moved back, visibly dazed. His usually immaculate suit was ruffled from Beelzebub's attentions. His violet eyes, when he finally cracked them open, were vividly brighter than Beelzebub remembered. 

"You alright?" They teased, expertly hiding how unraveled they felt. 

He flushed again, looking away. "I believe I understand a little better now," he said hesitantly. 

Beelzebub pushed his shoulder. "That's it? First time you've been soundly kissed and that's your response?" They knew getting anything more out of him wasn't going to happen, so they let it go when he refused to answer. 

Normally, they would have pulled away, gotten back to work. But Gabriel had began gently running his nails up and down their spine, lost in contemplation. They didn't know if he'd forgotten demons had wings or if he'd merely forgotten how sensitive they could get when not cared for. The key to it was consistent grooming, but Beelzebub would be the first to admit they hadn't kept up with their wings in centuries. It was too much of a chore when they never used them.

Beelzebub leaned forward and rested their head against his chest, startling him out of his mind. "Beelz?" He started to ask. 

"Don't stop," they pleaded, not caring how desperate they sounded. Their tone must have shocked Gabriel, as well; he hesitated for a moment before resuming his path. Their eyes were closed as they focused on the feeling of his nails on their back. It wasn't a sexual thing- they would know if it was, being able to sense lust and all- more like they hadn't realized how much their wings and back itched and ached until he touched them. 

Gabriel seemed to realize how wholly they were at his mercy, because he finished his trail to the top of their spine and then dug his nails in a little harder on the way down. Beelzebub shuddered and whined, trying not to seem like some lower, more pathetic creature than they were. They could only be grateful they had locked the door; it meant less of a chance for someone else to see them like this. 

"You have a lot of tension in your shoulders, Beelz," Gabriel told them. As if they weren't aware. "You really should take better care of your wings." 

So he did know they were there. Which meant he knew exactly what he was doing to them. Asshole. 

"Being a Prince of Hell does that to you," they muttered. "Someone has to stop these idiots from discorporating each other." 

Gabriel drew his hand away and Beelzebub lifted their head to look at him. He was watching them with a thoughtful look on his face. "I could help you stretch your wings, if you would like," he offered. 

They raised an eyebrow at him. Showing someone your wings was considered incredibly intimate down here, a declaration of love even. The way he sounded so casual, though, made them wonder how common it was upstairs. "You'd do that for me?" They asked skeptically. 

Gabriel shrugged. "You obviously need it," he said, smug bastard. "Think of it as repayment, if you wish. The offer stands." 

His nonchalance over the whole thing helped Beelzebub make up their mind. "Alright, fine. But nobody can know if this, you hear? I've got a reputation to maintain." They jabbed a finger at him. 

"No one will know," he promised. "Believe me, there would be reprecussions for me as well if word got to Michael or Uriel. You need not be afraid. I will not harm you today." 

Beelzebub knew. He'd probably be discorporated. They, on the other hand, would probably just be relentlessly humiliated. They had to admit, they apprecuated his acknowledgement that their were still hereditary enemies. Even so, a bizarre wish crossed their mind that it wasn't so.

They pushed those thoughts away and began unbuttoning their suit jacket. It took little time, and within seconds they had tossed it onto their chair. 

Now in just a white button-up, they glanced up from the shirt to Gabriel staring at them. No, they thought, not at; more through, to a different place and a different time. "Gabe?" They muttered, not even realizing they hadn't said his full name. His eyes took on a pained and confused look before clearing. He shook his head and met their eyes. They understood that he didn't know what had happened either. If they didn't know better, they would have said he had looked haunted. 

They focused again on their shirt buttons, and Gabriel's nimble fingers began at the bottom. Together, they worked their way through the buttons, fingers brushing at the last button. They let the shirt slide down their shoulders, watching how Gabriel's eyes fixed on the fabric. It made them want to laugh. 

They threw the shirt in roughly the same direction as the chair as they called their wings into being. The room was just wide enough and for them and about twice as high, which was why Beelzebub had chosen it. They sighed as the wings snapped open, a few loose feathers falling to the ground. They had no idea what their wings had looked like in Heaven, but now they were black with dark blue and violet highlights where the lights glanced off them. 

Gabriel seemed surprised by their size. Likely he had not realized that Beelzebub must have been more than an average angel to receive such a high position in Hell. "The colors are flawless," he muttered, reaching out to pull a loose feather. Beelzebub felt their face begin to grow warm, and cursed themself for it. 

"I'm sure they used to be something spectacular when I was in Heaven, but those days are gone," they said bluntly. They truly didn't care anymore about what might have been before. They used to, of course, but they'd long ago realized they couldn't change how things were. 

Gabriel, meanwhile, was looking between the feather in his hand and their face. They had never seen someone cradle a feather before, but that was exactly what he was doing. Again he wore that pained expression. 

Beelzebub slipped off his lap climbed up onto the desk, trying not to focus on how their feet didn't quite reach the floor. They felt incredibly naked and intensely vulnerable with their wings visible like this. "Let's get on with it, then," they snapped. 

Gabriel blinked and slipped their feather into his pocket. Beelzebub realized he intended to keep it. They didn't know whether to be angry or flattered. "Eager, are you?" He teased as he stood. 

"It's colder down here than topside or in Heaven," they muttered. It was true; they had goosebumps, but those weren't entirely caused by the cold. 

He shrugged like he hadn't noticed the differences in temperatures. "Hold still," was all he said. They locked eyes as he stepped forward. Even with Beelzebub off the ground, he stood at least half a head higher than them. "By the way..." 

Beelzebub waited, but he didn't say anything else until they prompted him. "What?" 

Then he did something unexpected: he smiled at them, a real smile that made their chest tighten painfully for some reason. They began to wonder if they were somehow falling ill. "We usually don't do this in Heaven, either," he told them. It was the first time they could ever remember hearing him speak like a normal person.

They didn't have time to process his words before he reached for the top of their wing and began straightening feathers. It felt both too fast and agonizingly slow all at once as he worked. Beelzebub closed their eyes and leaned against him. 

They were both quiet for a while, the only sounds being Beelzebub's soft breaths and the rustle of feathers. 

When he was about a third of the way down the wing, his fingers brushed a lump that made Beelzebub tense up. "Beelzebub, there's some sort of blockage here. This must be hurting you," he stated. 

They shrugged. They were usually too bust to take much stock in where their body hurt on any given day. 

"Stay steady," he instructed. "I will take care of it." 

Beelzebub realized what he planned to do only moments before he did it. "Gabriel, wait-" They cut themself off with a sharp hiss as he ran a fingernail over the lump, scratching away dirt and whatever else had coalesced on the spot. The scab- at least that's what they assumed it was- came free with one last stab of pain, and then there was the sweetest relief they'd felt in a long time. Something trickled down the appendage, they didn't really care what, as they gripped his jacket in both hands, heaving ragged breaths. 

He pulled his hand away to show them the thing he'd ripped off. It was much larger than they'd expected. "Are you alright?" He asked, unusually concerned. 

"I'm fine," they promised him. "Hurt like a bitch, but I'll be fine." 

Gabriel flicked the scab thing into the waste bin Beelzebub kept next to the desk for reports they didn't want to read/file. "I think there may be more. Do you want me to get the rest of them before I continue with the feathers?" 

Beelzebub considered this. On the one hand, removing them all at once meant they would hurt less later. On the other, removing them all at once would hurt more now. "Alright," they agreed finally, letting go of his jacket. 

He surprised them by pulling off his scarf and holding it out to them. "In case you need something to grab onto," he explained. They took it gingerly. "Someone dug one of these off of my wing a very long time ago; I remember how it hurt." 

Beelzebub knew better than to ask who had done it; he either wouldn't say or didn't remember. They just nodded and wrapped the scarf tight around their hands. "Go ahead." 

Truth be told, it felt like popping a pimple near your eye before it's ready to be popped, when you're so sick of the aching red spot that you start picking and squeezing it, and when the pimple finally pops it hurts so bad you almost can't take it.

That would be how Beelzebub would have described it, had they been asked. Gabriel's scarf got thoroughly wrinkled as he moved from one wing to the next, front to back, picking at the lumps. He kept muttering as he scratched them, reassuring Beelzebub that this one was almost out, just a little further. 

Beelzebub lost count of how many there were, but they knew it must have been upwards of fifteen or so. 

The worst was the last, one near the base of their right wing. Gabriel warned them where it was, asked if they were sure they wanted him to get rid of it. They gritted their teeth, tensed their body, and told him to just fucking do it already. The pain that shot through their wing radiated across their back, triggering a deeper, sharper pain they hadn't known they had. Gabriel's scarf was the only thing that kept them alert enough to stop them from blacking out and toppling over. 

At last, Gabriel's hands stilled on their wings. Beelzebub had tears running down their face that he couldn't see because he was behind them. Surely, though, he noticed how their shoulders were shaking slightly. "Beelzebub, are you still in pain?" He asked. "Do I need to stop?"

They barely heard him, but somehow they managed to shake their head. That deeper ache was still there, centered on their spine between their wings. 

Gabriel, somehow, knew something was wrong. He came around the desk, pausing as he saw their wet face. "Beelz," he muttered. He reached out to them, but they shook their head again. They were beginning to understand what had happened. 

When they knew their voice would be steady, they explained what he was clearly wondering. "It felt like when I Fell from Heaven," they admitted. 

His brow creased. "I thought you remembered mothing from your time as an angel?" 

"I don't. My first real memory is being down here, commanding Lucifer's armies against Heaven in the Great War. Before that, the only thing I have is pain. I think my wings were badly injured when I Fell, and Lucifer healed them." They willed the pain to ease, gently shaking their wings. "It would explain why I can't use them." 

Gabriel froze, staring at them in disbelief. "You cannot fly? I thought all demons retauned the use of their wings." He was looking at the appendages with a critical eye, searching for some nonexistant flaw. 

Beelzebub shook their head. "All of the others can. I tell them I have no interest in flying, and they believe it because I will discorporate them if they question me." 

He tapped his thumb and forefinger together, another habit they were sure he'd picked up from the humans. "Do you want me to continue?" 

They shrugged. "It makes no difference to me," they lied. In truth, they could feel the change in the wing he had partially groomed. It was lighter, less itchy. There wasn't as much resistance as they cautiously flapped it, messing up Gabriel's meticulous hair. 

Almost immediately, he had his hands on the feathers again, apparently knowing they were full of bullshit. They tensed on instinct, half expecting the pain again. But there was only soft touches as he ran his fingers down the unfinished part of the front of their wing. Several feathers fell out, either loose or broken. 

Compared to what they just experienced, Gabriel's gentle attentions were breathtaking. Within mere minutes they had relaxed again, hands methodically squeezing the scarf they still held. Gabriel had made no move to take it back. 

As he reached the bottom of the wing, he reached one hand up and raked his fingernails carefully down it. Beelzebub jumped, trembling violently. Gabriel snickered as they glowered at him. "Asshole," they muttered. 

He grinned and did it again, seemingky savoring the way Beelzebub reacted. He leaned against the side of the desk to reach the back of the wing and trailed one finger down the edge of it as the other started straightening feathers. 

Without those dreaded lumps, the rest of the grooming proceeded smoothingly and quickly. As soon as Gabriel realized the extent of the control he had over Beelzebub when he used his nails, he did it quite often. By the time he had finished the first wing and was nearly done with the second, they had sagged forward slightly and were visibly shaking. 

It was over far too soon, in Beelzebub's opinion. Gabriel stepped back to admire his handiwork as they gave their wungs and experimental shake. A couple of missed loose feathers fell onto the desk, but they were surprised at how much better they felt. 

"Do they feel better now?" He asked, coming around to look them in the face. 

"They do," Beelzebub confirmed. Then they uttered two words they had never said before, let alone to an angel. "Thank you." 

Gabriel's face morphed with shock, and he stepped forward. At first Beelzebub wondered what he meant to do, then they saw him reach for his scarf. They held it out to him, only to realize it was still tangled in their fingers. They both stared at it for a moment, then at each other. 

Without breaking eye contact, Gabriel pulled the scarf out of their hands and settled it around Beelzebub's neck. His face turned a brilliant shade of magenta, and Beelzebub was sure theirs was a similar color. 

"It suits you," he said quietly. His eyes were asking a question. 

They knew what their answer should be, what their answer would have been less than a month ago. But things had changed. "I guess it's not a terrible color," they replied. 

Gabriel huffed out a breath he hadn't needed. "They cannot know about this," he stated. 

Beelzebub nodded. There was no need to ask who 'they' were, or what 'this' was. They grabbed his suit jacket and dragged him down for another kiss. 

Whereas their earlier kiss had been somewhat calm, this one had a feverish desperation. Beekzebub had tumbled over the edge, and they couldn't bring themself to care. 

For now, there was only this moment. There was the press of their lips, his hands carefully roaming, their hands grasping his jacket. There was his scent, so out of place in such a dreary setting yet so fitting for him. 

There was a hand, gently grazing their wing. There was such a quiet moan that neither realized until it happened again. There were startled glances shared, boundaries tested as he reached up and tangled a hand in the feathers he had worked so hard to fix. There was a soft, breathy pant that made them both feel utterly naked without being naked at all. 

There was another, more gentle kiss, and a hand in hair. There were hips reflexively jerking and hands slipping onto thighs. There was stepping closer, pressing chest to chest. There was a warmth, seeping through their stomach like the glow of a candle. There were lips on their neck and a greedy mark of possession at the base of their throat that drew out another moan. 

There was hesitation, as their hands found their way under his shirt and his thumbs rubbed circles on their thighs. There was an understanding that they were moving faster than they should. There was a pulling away, both panting though they had no need for air.

There was a moment where Beelzebub decided Gabriel looked beautiful like this. There was something messy and human and _real_ about him like this. There was a gleam in his eyes and a tiny smile on his parted, kiss-swollen lips and Beelzebub felt the exact moment their metaphorical cliff dive ended in a rolling sea of emotion. 

There was a slow hand, brushing hair away from their face, unbelievably tender. And they knew then that pretending would be almost impossible. They could see it in his eyes, too, as he wondered about this explosive chemistry between them. They knew he felt the same intoxicating pull they did; it was in his hand on their cheek, his messed up hair. 

"What are we going to do?" They asked. Michael and Uriel would never allow Gabriel to be with them. Lucifer would destroy them for fraternizing with an angel. 

Gabriel, however, had an answer already. Whether it was the right answer remained to be seen. "How well can you keep a secret?" He asked. 

Beelzebub's jaw dropped. "You're suggesting we lie? Won't that get you in trouble?" 

"Perhaps, but I never said lie. If someone asks me directly, I will not be able to convince them nothing has happened. I have only ever lied when it was required for a job. I am not good at it." 

They shook their head, chuckling as they reached for their shirt. Folding their wings and casting them out of the physical plane, they drew the fabric over their shoulders, buttoning it about halfway before they spoke. "I can, and will, lie. Whatever it takes. By the way, you might want to fix your hair before you leave. You look like you've been standing in front of an industrial fan." 

Gabriel's hands went to his hair. "In a way, was I not?" He sassed. He patted down the parts that were really bad. "Michael and Sandalphon will be wondering where I am. I told them I was following a woman who is about to lose her wife." He closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed. "If I leave now, I can get there before she gets the call." 

"Go, then. I'll see you in a few days at the centennial meeting," Beelzebub promised. "I don't think it's safe for us to purposefully meet again before then." 

He nodded, then grabbed their hand and squeezed it hard. They squeezed it back just as tightly, before he vanished. A gentle breeze ruffled their hair, leaving traces of vanilla. 

As they hopped off the desk and grabbed their jacket from the chair, a light blue-grey stripe on their vision shifted. They realized they still had Gabriel's scarf around their neck. 

They materialized a mirror after they put their jacket back on. The half-buttoned shirt revealed the mark Gabriel had left on their skin with his teeth. It was a dark stain against otherwise fair skin. The jacket and scarf contrasted each other similarly. 

They decided they liked how his scarf looked on them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is literally 1.5ish longer than both of the other chapters combined (Chapters 1 & 2 were almost 3,900 words together. This one places in at about 5,500 words). I'm both ashamed of that fact and also not shocked in the slightest. 
> 
> I hope you guys liked this scene. I love writing scenes like this because I love exploring the sides of characters we don't often get to see, even if it means I'm inventing that side if them. Such is the case with these two. 
> 
> Side note, have you ever popped a pimple right below your eye or in that little crack between your nose and your cheek? That hurts so bad.
> 
> Side note #2: It's 1:16 am as I am posting this, and I work in about 7 hours. Somebody help me 😂


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beelzebub's patience and loyalty are tested in ways they never imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta reading, we die like men. 
> 
> Holy crap, you guys! I'm so excited by the feedback I got from some of you about the last chapter. Your comments alone were well worth the exhausting morning I had at work after posting that!
> 
> That said, sorry about how long it took to get this one out! I had to take break from this to finish a 22k piece for the TS Storytime Big Bang over on tumblr, the first two chapters of which have been posted here if anyone wants to read them.

Despite their agreement, Beelzebub and Gabriel ran into each other twice in the days leading up to the meeting. Once, when Beelzebub was sent topside to test a particularly stubborn nun-in-training. Apprentice nun? Whatever they're called. In the same convent, Gabriel was convincing a woman in mourning (presumably the same woman he'd mentioned last time they spoke) to give her life to the Almighty. Beelzebub was particularly proud of that job; Gabriel had stepped into an out-of-the-way corridor to zap back to Heaven, only to stumble across Beelzebub whispering devlilishly naughty things to the nun. The look on his face as he'd hastily backed out of the hall had them laughing for hours. 

The second time they saw each other, Gabriel showed up to their office with Aziraphale in tow. Turned out that Crowley had gotten discorporated in front of his angel, though Aziraphale refused to say why. Gabriel had thought it best to bring him down to find Crowley before he accidentally exploded something on Earth. 

Crowley himself had appeared in some far-away office, but it was no tricky feat for Beelzebub to locate him. They graciously led Aziraphale and Gabriel through the back hallways of Hell, knowing that angels had trouble navigating the dismal place. Aziraphale kept hurrying ahead, which in and of itself spoke volumes about his love for Crowley. One of the times he slipped ahead, Beelzebub caught Gabriel's hand and squeezed it, dropping it again before any of their subjects saw. 

When they arrived in whatever backwards area of Hell Crowley had gotten himself flung into, seeing how he immediately gathered a tearful Aziraphale into his arms made Beelzebub's chest ache. As they watched the demon assure his angel that he was "alright, really, just a little out of sorts," Gabriel's hand touched the small of their back. 

It took several seconds before they registered that Crowley was watching them both, eyes narrowed. Beelzebub stepped away from Gabriel and shook their head slightly. Gabriel turned to look at them as they turned and stalked out. The door shutting was enough to startle Aziraphale, who tensed as though preparing for combat. 

"Aziraphale, I assume you can find your way back to Earth?" Gabriel asked. Aziraphale looked over at him and nodded. "Then I will excuse myself." 

Crowley was staring at him. "Wait," he said. "You're not going to tell your superiors about this, are you?" In his arms, Aziraphale cowered slightly, as if remembering the Hellfire he had encountered. 

For an instant, Gabriel almost felt bad about that. But angels don't feel regret. "No, I will not tell anyone," he promised. Before either could say more, he vanished. 

Aziraphale immediately chastized Crowley for getting discorporated. "I could have handled it, you know!" He cried. 

"Aziraphale, you are the living embodiment of a marshmallow," Crowley replied. "How the bloody fuck were you going to get rid of them?" 

"The shop has systems in place to keep out thieves." He looked back at where his brother had been only moments ago. "Putting that aside for now, I wonder if he was doing all right." 

Crowley snorted. "I'm sure he's fine, angel. He didn't look as uppity as usual." 

"That's what has me worried, my dear," Aziraphale said. He watched as Crowley's eyes darted over to the door and then back to him. "Is there something you aren't telling me, Crowley?" 

"No! Of course not, angel. Just wondering about Lord Beelzebub, is all," he insisted. 

Aziraphale clearly dudn't know whether or not to believe him, but he eventually sighed and took his hand. "Let's go find whomever we need to speak to to get you back to Earth, hm?" 

That was the last time Gabriel and Beelzebub saw each other before the meeting. Beelzebub, surprising absolutely no one, spent a solid day bitching to Dagon and the other Dukes about how much they hated these meetings. 

It was the one time every century that demons were allowed to return to Heaven. It was meant to give everybody a chance to speak civilly about the Great Plan, and appropriate tasks for the next century, as well as sort any souls who had yet to find their way out of Purgatory. 

Beelzebub claimed it was boring, but in truth it physically hurt them. Heaven was too bright, too sterile, too loud and echoing. Not only that, but on a deeper note it made their wings ache. After all, it was in Heaven they had been cast out, even if they couldn't remember. 

Another thing was they were forced to leave their swarm at home. On Earth and in Hell, nobody cared if they walked around with a small hoard of flies. Plenty of sods did. But the flies were like their children, in a way. Their buzz was a near constant, which made Beelzebub irritable without. The drone of their flies helped drown out the unnecessary noise of the world.

While all demons were allowed to go to Heaven, some were required. Much of the general public of Hell chose not to; the ethereal space they used to call home was nothing more than a painful memory anymore. 

So it was that Beelzebub, Dagon, Hastur, and a contingent of other demons clustered in the designated meeting room, squinting in the harsh sunlight and arguing over who would sit where. Crowley, whom Beelzebub had been told to bring along, was off in a corner, smoking a cigarette and completely ignirung the No Smoking signs posted around the room. Beelzebub was mentally preparing themself. One had to with these sorts of things. 

When Heaven's representatives entered, led by the Archangels, Beelzebub couldn't help but subtly look for Gabriel. He was behind Uriel and Michael, looking as uncomfortable as ever during these things. He looked over, perhaps sensing their gaze, and blinked once as a way of greeting. Beelzebub blinked back, still scowling to keep up appearances. They watched Gabriel try not to laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing was. 

They noticed Crowley straighten, extinguishing his cigarette as Aziraphale made it through the door. The soft smiles they exchanged made Beelzebub want to vomit.

"Welcome," Michael said, the click of their shoes on the tile unbearably loud. "If everyone will take a seat, we can get started with the presentations and annual reports."

Michael, Gabriel, and Uriel took the three seats near the head of long table, Michael in the middle with Gabriel at their right and Uriel at the left. Beelzebubtook the seat across the table from Michael, Dagon to the right of them and Hastur to the left.

Beelzebub noticed that Crowley managed to snag a seat next to Aziraphale. Undoubtedly the two would ignore the whole meeting to speak with each other, as they were now. 

As Gabriel opened up the meeting with some statistics about who knows what, Beelzebub found their mind wandering. As usual, they wondered why the other archangels didn't attend these meetings. It was widely assumed that Heaven merely sent a group of representatives, like Hell did. But the archangels were supposed to be the perfect angels; why not send them all? Michael and Gabriel were hardly the most morally competent of the lot, so where were Raphael, Remiel, Saraqael, and Raguel? 

They tuned back in a few times, mainly when they sensed the growing aggitation of their companions. More than once they had to threaten to discorporate Gabriel to get him back on track. Then they would find their attention drifting off as their eyes got stuck on him.

A throat being cleared brought their attention back to the matter at hand. Dagon was speaking about their own statistics while Hastur tried to get Beelzebub's attention. They realized they had missed their cue to speak, and also that in their absentness their eyes had wandered to Gabriel, who happened to be staring right back. 

As Dagon talked, Beelzebub crossed their arms over their chest and tried to appear bored. It wasn't hard. Ocassionally they would chime in with schemes here or there that Dagon forgot. 

Luckily, nobody seemed to notice that Dagin wasn't supposed to be the one reporting Hell's numbers. 

"Alright," Uriel said finally, after Dagon sat back and yawned. "I believe it is time to sort the sould of Purgatory before we discuss the next century's proceedings." 

"Yes, we probably should get to that, shouldn't we?" Beelzebub sassed, mimicking the angel's way of speech. They grinned, closer to baring their teeth than anything, as Uriel spluttered with righteous fury. "Hastur, gather the souls, would you? And be quick on it, I don't want to waste more time up here than I have to." 

Hastur and one of the angels disappeared to fetch the possibly damned departed. Gabriel was speaking quietly to Uriel, perhaps trying to dissuade her from discorporating Beelzebub on the spot. Dagon was still muttering under their (No, Dagon said it was her today, Beelzebub reminded themself) breath about stupid ethereal politics. She didn't look any happier about being here than Beelzebub. "Don't know why we try so hard to appease this lot," she whispered to the prince. 

"We're not appeasing them, Dagon. We don't work so bloody hard to appease Heaven, we work to ruffle their feathers and watch them squirm." They noticed Gabriel watching them again, and winked at him. 

Unfortunately, Dagon saw how he quickly looked away. "Beelzebub, what in Lucifer's name are you playing at?" She asked. 

Beelzebub chuckled. "Just a little game," they lied. "It's always funny to see how the righteous react to the unholy. You should give it a go sometime." 

They turned toward the door as Hastur returned, leaving Dagon to ponder their words. They may have been too casual with their answer, but Dagon didn't dare question them further. 

The judging of the souls was probably the most interesting part of the meetings, if only because Beelzebub played a direct role. They, Dagon, Uriel, and Michael called forth one soul at a time to reflect on their past life and figure out whether they deserved Heaven or Hell. Ordinarily the work spanned a couple of hours; despite having thousands of souls to categorize, Uriel could recall an entire life for them in the span of a few seconds. This time, however, the task took nearly 6 hours. More humans had died in the past century than they'd seen since the plagues. If it weren't literally their job, they'd be concerned. 

By the time they were done, the rest of the company had begun to grow restless. As such, Michael made the decision to shorten the rest of the meeting. The majority of the important information had been covered already, as was the point of presenting before judging. They announced that anything else the demons needed to know would be given to Beelzebub if they would be so kind as to wait behind. 

After the announcement, angels and demons broke off into clusters. Some of the lower demons were already leaving, sick of the angels and their holier-than-thou attitudes. Beelzebub and Dagon stood amidst a small group of demons who had insisted upon waiting for their prince. 

Off to the side, Aziraphale was in a group of angels, presumably talking about book or some such nonsense. Crowley, they knew for a fact, had accosted a few demons and was telling them about how he had released a small army of frogs into Tadfield yesterday. Idiot.

"Lord Beelzebub." They turned around to see Gabriel towering over them. He looked annoyed, though Beelzebub knew it was a show. "May I speak with you for a moment?" 

Beelzebub, having a feeling they knew what he wanted to talk about, rolled their eyes and slipped into their old role. "If it's really that important, you can speak to me here," they drawled. 

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "It is not something for a common demon to overhear," he insisted. Beelzebub watched Dagon puff up like a cat. 

"Fine, fine. Let's get this over with before anyone gets discorporated, I've got enough paperwork without you killing my lieutenants." 

Dagon stepped forward. "Lord Beelzebub, would you like one of us to go with you?" They offered. 

"No, Dagon. You will remain here," Beelzebub ordered. "I am more than capable of handling myself, you would do well to remember that. I could discorporate this moron before he even breathed again if he insulted me." Dagon bowed, and Beelzebub slipped out of the circle to stalk past Gabriel. 

Dagon watched them leave, eyebrows drawn together.

They admittedly had no idea where they were going, but judging by how quickly the voices of their enemies and subjects faded, they were going somewhere far away from everyone. They let themself follow the trail Gabriel had left to get to the meeting room, knowing he had directly come from working for the event. 

By the time Gabriel caught up to them, they had gone through several twisting hallways, and were very much away from the others. Gabriel put a hand on their shoulder, and in an instant Beelzebub turned and shoved him into a nearby room, pinning him against the opposite wall and levitating to his height. 

Gabriel looked slightly stunned, but he didn't let it phase him too much. "I think people are starting to grow suspicious of you and I, Beelz," he admitted quietly. 

"I know. I've been thinking the same thing. But they won't find out. Demons can't navigate this bloody place, and your kind don't trust mine eough to leave them alone up here." Beelzebub leaned forward and nipped his nose. Gabriel blushed. "Never the one to give in first, are you?" They rolled their eyes at him, then properly kissed him.

It didn't last more than a few seconds before they heard giggling that broke off into startled gasps as the door opened. They pulled away from Gabriel to see Aziraphale standing in the doorway gaping at them. Crowley was struggling to maintain his composure, grinning like a madman. "Well, well, Lord Beelzebub," he snickered. "Fancy seeing you here." 

Aziraphale cast a sharp look at him, then hurried forward as Beelzebub dropped to the ground. "Brother, what is going on? Has Lord Beelzebub tempted you?" He sounded overly worried, Beelzebub thought. 

Before Gabriel could answer, Crowley chimed in again. "Obviously, angel. And I don't think he minded too much." 

"Crowley, what are you doing here? The meeting is over," Beelzebub not-quite-ordered.

He completely ignored the order, grabbing Aziraphale's waist. Aziraphale's face mottled with color as he ducked his head. "If you nust know, Bee, I was looking for a quiet place for Zira and I to... talk. But it looks like you beat me to it, boss." 

Gabriel took advantage of the brief silence that followed to speak. He sounded so urgent that everyone stared at him. "Aziraphale, the Almighty must not know of this," he pleaded. He wrapped an arm around Beelzebub's shoulder and pulled them against his side, almost protectively. Beelzebub was too surprised to react. 

Aziraphale, similarly, didn't know how to respond. He locked eyes with Gabriel, and the two appeared to have a brief silent conversation. Beelzebub wondered what they were saying. When Gabriel broke eye contact, Aziraphale looked shocked. He turned to look at Beelzebub, scrutinizing them so closely that they almost snapped at him to stop. 

Whatever he saw must have been what he was looking for, because he nodded. "I promise, I won't say a word," he swore. Gabriel's shoulders sagged. Whether in relief or sorrow, Beelzebub couldn't say.

"Yeah, you aren't the only angel getting fucked," Crowley said, pressing a kiss to his angel's temple. 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale gasped. The demon just laughed as he pulled Aziraphale out of the room. "Gabriel, you and I will speak later!" 

After the door closed, Beelzebub pulled away from Gabriel. "I don't want to know what they're wandering off to do," they said. "We need to get back. We've both been gone far too long, Dagon will be starting to wonder." 

"Yes, Michael will be, as well." Gabriel gave them a gentle smile. "Can I see you later?" 

Beelzebub's heart did something dangerous within their chest. "Not in Hell. There's too many newcomers sniffing around where they don't belong. No," they mused. "Where else? I have a flat in London. Meet me there tonight." 

Gabriel nodded. He didn't need to ask for the address; he'd been near Beelzebub enough to know their particular aura. Finding their place, even among thousands of humans, would be easier than finding a wolf in a room full of sheep. "Are you not walking back with me?" He asked. 

"No. I have another meeting to attend to," they lied fluidly. They stuffed their hands deep into their pockets. "Tell Dagon I went back to my office, I know she'll ask." 

"As you wish." He winked at them, then left the room. The door fell shut with a barely audible click. 

They sighed the instant he was gone. It didn't do to have to lie to him, but they knew he would stop them from what they were about to do. To be fair, he would be completely right to. 

They waited until his aura diminished enough that they knew he wasn't coming back, then slipped out into the hall. With most everyone either at the meeting or on assignments on Earth (a fact they knew because their subjects kept getting thwarted), it was relatively easy to be sneaky. 

Surprisingly enough it took almost no time at all to find the room they were looking for. It was completely covered with Gabriel's aura, which made sense given that his usual duties included archiving new souls. Beelzebub scoffed as they picked the lock on the door. Angels really out to have better security for a room so important. Come to think of it, they should know better than to put all of their files in one place. Beelzebub and their dukes hid files all over Hell. 

"Now, now, where are they?" They muttered to themself, picking a shelf at random. The file they opened was only a decade or so old. Of course they would have to start at the back. Given that they didn't have much time, they weren't at all shocked. 

It helped that Beelzebub knew the archangels had been the first angels God had created. The perfect underlings to keep Her company. They just had to figure out which side of the room to start on. 

They chose the right side, because it seemed counterintuitive and angels like to be difficult that way. For once luck was on their side; almost immediately they had a hit.

It wasn't one of the archangels, as they were expecting to find, but Aziraphale. They knew, logically, that Aziraphale had been created shortly before the Great War. There was a difference between knowing something and reading it. As they carefully set it back it occurred to them that they had likely picked his because they'd been around him just minutes ago. 

That wouldn't work for the missing archangels. Raphael and Saraqael hadn't been seen by Hell's operatives in thousands of years, and Remiel and Raguel rarely showed up for any sort of political stuff anymore after the 10th century meeting. They shuddered just thinking about it. So much paperwork. 

How, then, to find those files on such short time? Dagon had to know they weren't in their office by now; the meeting had been over long enough for all the other demons to be home. Beelzebub grabbed another off the shelf, flipped through it, and closed it with a growl. Not the right folder. 

The files alluded them for longer than they cared to admit. Finally, they just stuck a hand out in front of them and tracked along the rows, letting the files whisper to them. 

The first they pulled out was a shocking one. It detailed the life of Saraqael, who had apparently been the archangel of protection and death. Beelzebub almost stopped their search right then and there, with the information they gathered. The file spoke of how Saraqal, one of God's fiercest protectors, being tempted and twisted by Lucifer. For his betrayal, God had twisted his shapshifting abilities into that of a snake, and given him the new name of Crawly. A name said demon later changed to Crowley.

They wondered if he remembered. His status was listed as Traitor. It was a strange sort of irony that he had betrayed both sides. They returned the file with a mental note to ask him later.

At last, another one caught their attention. They pulled it from its hiding spot on the bottom shelf and dusted it off. The name on the spine was illegible, but the file was thick enough that it couldn't belong to anyone but an archangel. Excited, thinking they had a lead, Beelzebub thumbed it open. 

They spent a solid ten minutes reading through the file. What they were seeing astonished them. The file belonged to Raphael, only it classified the angel as KIW. What the acronym meant they had no clue. They read about the events of the Garden, how Adam and Eve had been cast out because of Crowley. They read about before then, when the Almighty had first created the archangels. Raphael, the file said, had been the second, only Michael coming before.

The kind of power the second archangel would possess made Raphael's disappearance all the more confusing. The file spoke only vaguely about the Great War. Some kind of attack. Smoke, hellfire, the usual things. 

Other than proving Raphael had ever existed at all, it was no help whatsoever. Frustrated, Beelzebub crouched down to put the file back. As they slid it into its spot, they noticed a piece of paper on the ground. It must have fallen out of the folder when Beelzebub grabbed it. They gingerly picked it up and flipped it over, then dropped it again like it was holy water. 

Their face stared back at them from a highly detailed sketch. They were laughing, wearing the white robes that God had clothed her angels in before the War. Instead of flies, lady bugs circled their head. Their face bore no pock marks or scars. They sat in what had to be the Garden, next to a brook. 

With trembling fingers they grabbed the drawing again, feeling sick to their stomach. What they saw didn't make any sense. The archangel Raphael had disappeared, not been seen in millenia. There had to be another explanation. There was no way they were a fallen archangel. 

And yet... it would explain certain things. Why Beelzebub's wings no longer worked. Why they couldn't remember anything before their Fall while every other demon could. Why they were so drawn to Gabriel, even. If they really had been an archangel, their former divinity would almost certainly be called ti Gabriel's. 

They grabbed the folder again mechanically, tucking the drawing back inside. The only thought that crossed their mind as they miracled out of the room was not a thought at all, but a question. 

Did Gabriel know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't originally going to make Crowley an archangel, and I didn't in the short version. But when I read that Saraqael was the archangel of death and protection, I just had to. God Herself forced me to write it. Is it not perfect? 
> 
> I headcanon Beelzebub as being Raphael because Raphael was the archangel of healing and Beelzebub had all those nasty marks on them when they're down in Hell. It made sense to me that God would turn their power against them and give them wounds they can never fully heal. Why their wings don't work, when Crowley's clearly do, will be explained in the next chapter.
> 
> A not-so-subtle hint, if anyone ever wants to draw anything from this fic, you never have to ask! Just tag me or submit it to my tumblr (arrowcreates)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel finally, finally tells the truth. Beelzebub seriously contemplates discorporating him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where the original one-shot ended. Everything after this will be new content. As such, the time between updates will be longer, but I'm gonna do my best to get chapters out fairly quick.

The steady snap of their boots against the pavement fit perfectly with their mood. The expression on their face kept the humans well put of their way as they stalked up the street that led to their flat. 

They stepped into the building and shut the door behind them, stalking up the stairs. At the top, outside of their flat, stood Gabriel. Just as he had promised he would be.

He looked down at their approach, raised a hand in greeting. "Bee-" he started.

Beelzebub snarled at him. "You. You filthy, disgusting bastard." 

He looked confused, before his eyes alighted on the folder they had tucked under their arm. "Where did you get that?" He asked, as if he didn't already know.

Beelzebub snapped their fingers and their front door unlocked. "Inside. Now." It wasn't a request and Gabriel knew better than to treat it as such. He stepped back into the flat as they moved toward him. They locked the door without so much as a glance behind them. "Beelzebub, I-" 

"No! You shut your bloody fucking mouth and listen to me!" Beelzebub slapped the file down on the coffee table, fight or flight instincts taking over as they began to pace.

They itched to hit him, they longed to flee. They forced themself to do neither. "Aziraphale clued me in that something had happened, you can thank him for that. After you went back, I did some snooping around. I didn't expect you lot to keep records all the way back."

"Beelzebub, if you would just let me explain," Gabriel pleaded. 

They glared at him. "Oh, you will. I'm not done yet. I found all sorts of gory files in there. Ligur, Dagon. Then I stumbled upon what I was looking for. Tell me, do you think Crowley remembers his time as an archangel?" They didn't give him a chance to respond. "That's why I went there, you know. To figure out what happened to those two. Saraqael and... and..." They couldn't say the name. They trailed off, running out of steam as they processed the look on Gabriel's face. They weren't any less angry, but they struggled to find the words.

He had hung his head. He looked more ashamed than Beelzebub had ever seen him. He crossed the coffee table and reached out to them, only for them to slap his hand away. 

"You have one chance to explain to me what I saw, Gabriel," they growled. "If you don't, I _will_ discorporate you." 

Gabriel looked them dead in the face. The sorrow they saw in his eyes scared them. "I tried to stop you," he told them. They blinked; this was not what they expected to hear. "You were so enamoured by Lucifer's words. We all were. When he started sounding treasonous, most of us disregarded him as crazy. But not you. You didn't see the harm in his words, the doubt he was sowing in your mind. I did, and I tried to get you to see reason." 

He carded his fingers through his hair. "You were so convinced he had the right of it, rebelling against God Herself. You tried to get me to join you, to meet with him one more time and hear him out. I very nearly did. The last thing I ever wanted was to lose you, you have to understand. Uriel came to me, said that if I told her what had been going on, she would keep you safe." 

He reached down and flipped open the file, where the drawing sat front and center. A happy, carefree angel. Beelzebub's chest ached at the sight of it. "Lose me," they repeated. 

Gabriel looked down at the folder. "You loved me, once," he admitted. "Our union was celebrated by all of Heaven. I believed Uriel when she told me you would be alright. I told her everything. How you went to see him, how late at night you would tirade against the Almighty, asking why the humans were more loved than us. Everything that Lucifer had planted in your mind. I trusted her to help you. It was my biggest mistake." 

"You can't understand how awful it was. You knew far too much. I watched them wrestle you before Michael. They removed your memories before they cast you out. You called for me," he told them. His voice was shaking, and so were his hands. "You screamed my name as they hurt your wings. You were so frightened. I was too much of a coward to intervene, worried I would meet the same fate. That is the biggest regret I will ever have, Raphael." 

Hearing the name they should remember having stung. "That's not my name," Beelzebub snapped. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

Gabriel picked up the drawing, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I was worried they would know if I tried to contact you. There is no way to restore your memories, and I could see nothing to be gained by burdening you with knowledge you would never remember for yourself. It was best that everyone believed Raphael had been destroyed during the War. Uriel told everyone the archangel Raphael had been taken out during a Hellfire attack. Nobody thought to question it." 

Beelzebub hugged their arms. "Did you know?"

"No. No, I had no idea, I swear. They never told me who you had become as a demon, perhaps to try and keep us apart. I had my suspicions, but I was never sure until you told me your wings don't work. You are the only demon who has ever had that done to them, there was no one else you could have been. Even if I had known, I would be here now in front of you."

He set the drawing down and reached for them again, and they let him take their hands in his. "Michael offered to erase my memories, after you Fell. I refused. Living with this, knowing what I did to you, this has been my repentance. You were the only one I ever wanted to be with, Beelzebub. Lucifer twisted you, dug through your defenses like a disease. For that alone, I will never forgive him." 

Beelzebub refused to look him in the eye. They stared down at the drawing. Raphael looked so carefree. Unburdened by things like death and war. They couldn't quite believe they had ever been like that. That they had ever loved Gabriel, and the Almighty.

No. No, that wasn't quite right, was it? They could believe they had loved him once; the evidence was in the way he was the only angel they could stand to be around. The evidence was in how they couldn't help but be drawn to him. To their surprise, they could almost believe loving him again. 

Gabriel was silent, waiting. "It can't happen," they muttered, shaking their head. They couldn't hide how their voice shook. There were so many things to process, but at least this was certain. "Things have changed. We're on opposite sides, they would kill us both. We can't." 

"I know," he said. "You might be surprised at how little I care. I spoke with Aziraphale. He told me what we need to do, if we want to be together. It will be tricky, since we both have more power than either of them."

They finally looked him in the eyes, raising an eyebrow. "You would risk sinning?" They asked skeptically. "Just to be with me?" 

Gabriel surprised them by leaning down and kissing them gently. It was the first time he had ever kissed them first. "Darling Beelzebub," he whispered. "I would Fall for you, if it came to that." 

Beelzebub stared up at him in shock, almost beyond the capacity for speech. "Gabe..." 

He bent over and closed the folder. Raphael disappeared. He never took his eyes off them. "You're not Raphael anymore," he stated. "But you are Beelzebub. And I do think, just maybe, just a little, that I nay be starting to fall for you all over again." 

The noise Beelzebub let out in response was embarrassing. It was part gasp, part sigh, and part giggle. There was a question in his eyes as he looked at them. A question that they answered when they pulled him down to kiss him. 

An angel admitting to feelings like this was dangerous. If he wasn't very careful, he would be cast out, even destroyed. It was the biggest risk an archangel could take, being with a demon. It was a risk they knew they were willing to share. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic moments, of which there are few in fanfiction, are perfect for reflections.
> 
> (AKA we get to see into Gabriel's head about how everything has unfolded so far)
> 
> (PS, I haven't written pure fluff in a while, bear with me)
> 
> (PPS, I accidentally wrote angst into it. Whoops, my bad)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow this chapter came out to exactly 3,800 words. I am more impressed by this than concerned that I wrote most of this at night when I should have been sleeping.
> 
> This is by far my most (kudosd? Kudod?) and read fic ever (except for the original version, which has about 15 more). I love you guys for putting up with my self-indulgent trash pile, and for actually liking what I write. 
> 
> This chapter is gonna be a little different. Not exactly flashbacks, but Gabriel's thoughts on various things both before and after the Fall. It's so hard for me, getting into his head, but I hope I did alright.

"I'm going to take a shower," Beelzebub said some time later. "Try not to blow my flat up while I'm in there." 

Gabriel glanced at them from the corner of his vision. They had set the folder back down (they had insisted on reading the whole thing, if they were breaking the rules just by having it anyway) on the table and were stretching. He turned to face them, disregarding the bookshelf he'd been scanning. "What is the point of a shower?" 

Beelzebub stared at him. "To be clean, stupid." 

"No," Gabriel argued. "I meant for you. You are a multidimensional being capable of some of the greatest feats and horrors ever seen. Can you not just will yourself clean?" 

Beelzebub shrugged, summoning a bath towel. "Normally I'd take a bath, but after Crowley's little Holy Water stunt I can't stomach the thought." Gabriel scowled at the mentiom. "Running water calms me. You wouldn't understand, I don't expect you've ever showered in your life." 

Gabriel shook his head. "No. There is no need to." 

Beelzebub rolled their eyes at him, then disappeared down the hall before he could say anything else. Shortly thereafter, he heard agressively running water. 

There wasn't much to do in the flat, as far as entertainment went. Gabriel suspected Beelzebub might have only been here once or twice before when not working. The whole place felt impersonal, though it was neatly decorated. Nothing good to read, either. 

Reading was the one indulgence Gabriel allowed himself. Reading about the humans led to a better understanding of them. Usually, though, he read in Heaven, where the only files on humans were from the souls they brought to Heaven. They didn't make for a very long read. Once or twice he had even gone to the archives room to brush up on the War. 

Looking back on it, he realized this was probably how Beelzebub had known where to go. After all, everyone knew demons couldn't navigate Heaven worth a damn. 

There was, however, one book in particular he enjoyed reading. In the end, he summoned a copy and settled on the sofa, flipping to the beginning as he always did. He also summoned a pencil.

He was about halfway through Leviticus when the water in the other room shut off. He paused in his annotations and tucked the pencil behind his ear as the bathroom door opened. 

Several seconds passed before Beelzebub came plodding into the living room. They were wearing a dark grey long-sleeve shirt and black sweatpants, and their feet were bare. Their hair clung to their face in damp strands as they wandered over to the couch and looked down at his book. For a moment, Gabriel thought they would be angry with him for having it in their presence. 

But they merely flopped down next to him, wrapping their arms around their legs. "What are you doing?" They asked. 

He gestured to his hair as he removed the pencil and showed it to them. "Humans are imperfect creatures," he explained. He didn't need to say more. 

They watched him for an immeasurable amount of time before scooting just a little closer. "I've never read it," they stated. "How inaccurate is it?" 

Gabriel laughed. "Less inaccurate than most, actually," he answered, flipping back to Exodus. "Here, look at this passage."

This settled the pair into a pattern. Gabriel resumed his reading, speaking aloud when he found inconsistancies. Beelzebub listened intently, occasionally chiming in with their own facts over this event or that. Things like "Mammon said that was a real show" and "I didn't know anyone wrote that down, does it mention me anywhere? Course not, nobody mentions the demons." 

It continued for an hour or so before something unusual happened. Given the events of the past 24 hours, nothing should have been unusual anymore, yet this was.

There was a quiet thud, and Gabriel looked up from his book as Beelzebub's head dropped onto his shoulder.

He set the book aside carefully. One look down at Beelzebub revealed them to be asleep. Their grip on their knees had relaxed, and one was starting to slide off the sofa. 

Gabriel wasn't entirely sure what to do. He didn't know if Beelzebub would wake up if he tried to move them, and he wasn't eager to get attacked on accident. He had never seen them, or any demon in fact, sleep before.

He shifted a tad and, when they didn't respond, he slowly began to turn. When he faced them at such an angle that he could tuck a hand under their knees, he gently lifted them bridal-style off the sofa. They snuggled into his chest as he stepped around the coffee table to go find the bedroom. 

Unsurprisingly, it reminded him of other times, before fate had pulled them apart. As he moved through the flat, he recalled all the nights where they would be out after dark, and he would carry them home while they playfully told him to please put them down. Then they would both laugh and sometimes he would kiss them and they would squeal. 

The memories were almost painful, even after so many millenia had passed. Gabriel looked down at the demon in his arms as he nudge open their bedroom door with his foot. Beelzebub looked different asleep; their face wasn't as creased by exhaustion and stress. They looked younger. Their earthly disguise had melted away, leaving their pock marks and scars visible. Truth be told, the marks were quite gruesome to look at, but Gabriel didn't mind them. 

As he laid Beelzebub on the bed, he couldn't help but notice that the queen-sized mattress didn't seem very worn. It led him to wonder when the Prince of Hell had slept last. Angels and demons didn't really need sleep, per se, but most preferred to get their eight hours. 

They looked impossibly small on that bed. Gabriel eased the blanket out from underneath them and covered them with it. Instinct guided him to press a soft kiss to their forehead. As he straightened up, a glint caught his eye. Beelzebub's emblem sat on the nightstand. 

He picked it up. He'd never had the chance to examine it closely. It was very symmetrical, seemingly centered around a little piece of metal. He ran his fingers over it idly, feeling the bumps and furrows where anxious fingers had worried it down. 

His index finger hit a spot on the center piece that didn't feel like it was rubbed in. He brought it closer to his face, summoning just enough light to get a better look at it without waking Beelzebub. There seemed to be an inscription on the inside of it that ran into the top of it. 

As he looked at it, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. The inscription was not a phrase, or even a word. It was the letter G. Gabriel knew immediately what it stood for. In his suit pocket, he had a similar one with the letter R carved into it. 

He looked between the emblem and Beelzebub. They didn't remember their past, didn't remember Raphael. How could they? They had said before they had no recollection of being an angel, and Gabriel himself had watched Michael remove those memories. 

Why, then, was the center piece of their emblem their wedding ring? 

Carefully, like he was handling a baby bird, he set it back down and backed out of the room. He shut the door behind him and found his way back out to the living room. He had no interest in his Bible anymore. He sat on the sofa, reaching into his inside pocket. 

He brought out the ring slowly. He hadn't looked at it in decades, something he had been proud of. It used to feel like he was giving in to the past, regretting. Knowing what he knew now, though, he regretted that he no longer wore it. Of course, part of that had been Sandalphon hinting that there would be reprecussions if he kept it on. Nonetheless, he wished now that he had told Sandalphon to go choke on holy water. 

The etching on the inside was starting to wear away from how many times he had rubbed his fingers across it over the years. It would be easy to fix it, but he found himself hesitant. As much as it hurt to admit, Raphael didn't exist anymore, and wouldn't unless Gabriel found the solution he'd once searched centuries for. 

With a sigh, he slipped the ring onto his finger. It still fit perfectly. 

He was wondering if Beelzebub's would still fit when he heard a yell from their bedroom. He was on his feet immediately, jumping over the table to run to the room. Beelzebub was thrashing about on the bed, apparently caught up in a nightmare. Gabriel almost didn't interfere, but the shine of tears on their cheeks spurred him into action. 

Not wanting to risk hurting them by restraining them, he turned on the light and approached slowly. When they weren't fighting the covers, they were shaking like a leaf. He wondered what could possibly cause such an intense reaction from them. What sort of dream could scare the Prince of Hell like this?

During one of the calmer moments, he reached out and touched their shoulder lightly. "Beelzebub," he whispered, putting a bit of angelic power behind his words. "Wake up." 

Several seconds passed before they squeezed their eyes tighter shut. Gabriel, thinking it was the light, snapped his finger to dispel the glare. Beelzebub tensed up, and he realized they were scared to open their eyes. 

He knelt before the bed, picking up the medal and pressing it into one of their hands. "Everything is okay, Beelz, I'm here," he told them. "Whatever you dreamt will not hurt you, I promise." 

They cracked one eye open halfway to look at him. The sight of him by their side had them relaxing. "Gabe," they muttered, voice hoarse. "It was horrible." 

"Shh. You need not speak of it if it pains you, darling." 

They struggled to push the blankets away and sit up. He stayed kneeling, so that they were taller than him when they sat up straight. "What happened?" 

Gabriel rolled his neck, feeling something near his spine pop. "You fell asleep. I brought you to bed. Something in your dreams frightened you." 

"I don't sleep often," they told him. They looked down at the medallion in their hand, then at where his own hands sat on the bed. "Rest brings nightmares. I'd rather not speak of them. What's that on your finger?" 

Gabriel looked down at his ring. "It's a wedding ring. You have one, too, set into your medallion." 

They blinked. Turning the emblem over in their hands, they puzzled at it. Finally, they pushed on it until the ring fell out of the center onto the bed. Gabriel grabbed it before they could, holding out his hand. 

Beelzebub stared at him as they put their hand in his. With a fluid motion that suggested years of practice, he located their ring finger and slid the ring into place. It was a little big, but it suited them. They looked down at it as they processed. "You and Raphael were married?" They asked quietly. 

"Yes. We were the first marriage." Their referring to Raphael as a separate person perhaps should have bothered him, but it didn't. He understood that maybe it was easier for them. "It was a beautiful ceremony. The Almighty herself officiated. You- er, Raphael wore a stunning robe with flowers, and their ladybugs were crawling all over it. They insisted on everyone sitting down together afterwards. It was one of the last times Heaven knew no discourse." If his smile was a little forced, no one had to know but him. 

"They sound like they were a lovely person," Beelzebub muttered. Their face had taken on a disgruntled look. "I doubt we'd have gotten on very well." 

Gabriel's smile softened to something just a little more genuine. "I disagree. Raphael was the sweetest person I ever knew, but they were also one of the rudest. They could easily match Lucifer and Michael when it came to scathing words. Some of the world's most common insults were invented by Raphael, you know. The Almighty only forbade us to speak them after the War." 

They shook their head. "I can't bring myself to believe an angel would ever be like that," they said. They twisted the ring on their finger absently. "Give me a minute, would you? I'll come join you once I'm dressed." 

Gabriel decided pointing out they were technically dressed already would not be a good idea. He straightened and nodded. "Of course." He showed himself to the kitchen, where he located a mug and began to search for the tea. There wasn't much in the cabinets, but he had assumed even Beelzebub would at least keep tea. However, there didn't seem to be any.

Not that he actually knew how to make it, either, but that was a problem for another time. 

"Why are you going through my cupboards?" Beelzebub asked behind him. 

He didn't turn. "Tea," he said simply. "It calms humans when they are upset, does it not?" 

Beelzebub snorted. "Who said I was upset? I'm perfectly fine." 

Gabriel, with a shrug, shut one cupboard and opened another. This one held a pack of small dry pieces of bread in opaque wrapping and a box labelled 'chamomile'. He recognized the word as an herb and grabbed the box. "I think I found it." He turned the box over in his hands, looking for the instructions. 

A small, slender hand plucked the box from his and set it on the counter. Beelzebub inched him out of the way and reached for the mug. "You don't know how to make tea." It wasn't a question. 

"Let me do this," Gabriel protested. Beelzebub looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. "I want to help. Let me help you." 

The sentiment seemed to surprise Beelzebub; their face softened for an instant before theu raised both hands and backed away from the counter. "Go on, then, let's see how you do," they deadpanned.

"Thank you." Turning back to the box, he made a show of following the instructions as he set the kettle on. He didn't want to use his powers for this, he wanted to prove he was capable of doing things without magic. 

Beelzebub called from the other room, "Your Bible is on the floor and I'm not picking it up." There was a crash that he suspected was them pushing the book off the coffee table. He snapped his fingers, and it dematerialized. "That's cheating!" 

"How did I cheat? I sent it back to my office," Gabriel replied. He put a tea bag into the mug, then added a second one after some thought. The box claimed the tea helped one sleep, and Beelzebub definitely needed sleep. 

The kettle began to whistle, cutting off Beelzebub's responce. He poured the water into the mug, then put the box and kettle back in their respective spots. He picked up the mug and carried it into the living room, where he set it in front of them. 

They didn't move to grab it, engrossed again in Raphael's files. He wondered what exactly they were hoping to find. Not wanting to disturb them, he simply stood there. 

Beelzebub read for quite some time before they happened to glance up again. When they saw Gabriel looming silently nearby, they jumped. "Unholy son of Satan!" They swore. 

Gabriel blinked. "Did you not realize I was standing here?" He asked. 

"No! I got... I got a bit carried away with these files. They make my head feel strange, like I can't quite remember what time I'm in," they admitted, scowling at him. They picked up their tea and took a sip, grimacing. "Mother of hell, this is strong. What did you do to it?" 

He perched gingerly on the coffee table. "I might have used two bags," he confessed. 

Beelzebub stared at him for a moment. Then they surprised him by laughing. "You're not supposed to do that, moron. If you want tea to be strong, you have to let it steep longer, not use more of it." 

"Steep?" 

"...You really don't have a clue about sustenance, do you?" 

Gabriel shrugged. "Not at all. I may study the humans when I am ordered to, but their habits are not my area of expertise." 

Heaving a sigh, Beelzebub set the cup down and looked to the folder again. They had moved Raphael's picture to the back. If they read cover to cover as they had claimed they were going to, it would be a while before they saw the drawing again. "Gabriel?" 

"Yes?" 

They hesitated before they spoke again, which Gabriel found to be highly out of character. "Would you change what happened if you could?" They met his eyes for a moment, then turned to stare out the window. 

Gabriel thought about it. "I... am not sure," he said finally. "If there had been some way for us both to end up on the same side, I think I would." 

"But you could've fought harder, couldn't you? You said yourself that you didn't interfere," they pointed out. 

"I chose not to interfere because I was afraid. Falling is any angel's greatest fear. My cowardice overwhelmed my need to protect you. If I could go back, I like to believe I would talk myself into doing something. Even if it meant I Fell, I think." 

The very thought of going against the Almighty was blasphemous, but he couldn't seem to hold it at bay. He'd relived that day in his head over and over throughout the millenia. It was the only time, until recently, that he had ever even entertained the notion of defying the Plan. 

Beelzebub sniffed, whether in disbelief or anger he didn't know. "You as a demon? I'd like to see that. I bet you'd still be a fool." They appeared to be teasing him. 

"I wonder which sin I would follow," he said thoughtfully. He didn't realize that Beelzebub had changed the subject. The deadpan expression they gave him made him wonder what he'd said. "Did I say something wrong?" 

"Not at all. It's just that I already know what you would be," they explained nonchalantly. They glanced down at the file, then flipped it shut. 

Gabriel leaned forward. "And what would that be, then?" He asked. 

Beelzebub smiled like a feral tomcat. "What do you think? Lust, judging by the way you couldn't keep your hands off me in the office." 

He felt his face grow warm and cursed his human vessel for being a human vessel. "You're twisting things! I sought you out for files I could read. You tempted me!" 

Beelzebub scooted forward on the touch until their lips barely brushed his. "You said yes," they whispered. 

He had no idea how he might have responded, because they leaned back and let out a massive yawn. He chuckled as their eyes fluttered back open. "I thought you said you never sleep?" 

"Just because I don't sleep doesn't meant this vessel doesn't get tired. In Hell it isn't a problem. Shit, even when I'm up here I just power myself awake." Beelzebub looked in the direction of their bedroom, something akin to frustration on their face. 

Gabriel reached out and took their hand. Their rings clicked as they hit each other. "You need sleep, Beelzebub," he said. 

They shook their head. "It's not that I hate sleeping itself. Having a few hours where I don't have to deal with idiotic demons and schemes would be a luxury," they told him. "Unfortunately, I haven't slept without nightmares in well over... two thousand years, probably." 

He stood up, pulling them to their feet as well. "Come on." 

"Gabriel, what are you doing?" They stumbled after him as he led them toward the bedroom. 

Gabriel nudged the door open with his foot. "Your vessel needs to recharge, and so does mine. You and I are taking, um. What did Aziraphale call it? Ah, yes, a nap." 

He snapped his fingers, changing clothes instantly. This outfit was similar to his jogging clothing, only looser and more comfortable. He stared at Beelzebub expectantly until they sighed and waved their hand. Their earlier pajamas returned. "Is this necessary, Gabriel?" 

"Yes. I can keep the nightmares away, if you let me. A simple charm, really," he offered. 

They actually seemed to consider it briefly. But instead they said, "Gabriel, you know this won't work. Whatever you're trying to do won't make me remember, you said so yourself." 

Gabriel froze. His gaze fell to the rings on their hands. "Beelzebub, that is the last thing on my mind," he promised. "Right now, I care about you, and only you. And you need sleep. Sleep without whatever plagued your dreams earlier and made you thrash about as you did." 

They slumped, curling in on themself. "I'm not tired," they lied. 

"Bullshit." His cursing startled them. "Beelz, please just try. Some rest won't kill you," he pleaded. 

After what felt like an eternity (but was, in reality, only about a minute and a half), Beelzebub nodded. They let go of his hand and clambered onto the bed, hugging their arms around themself. Gabriel sighed in relief and went around to the other side. The bed was softer than he expected. The knowledge that Beelzebub had gotten it, only to be unable to use it, made him unexpectedly sad. 

He took off his ring and levitated it over to the end table. Beelzebub took off their own and set it down next to his. The sheer size difference was amazing, but they had always had small hands. 

"Lay down, Beelz," he muttered, holding up the blanket for them as they adjusted. Once they were comfy, he tucked an arm around their waist and carefully pulled them back against his chest. 

"Gabe, what-" They squirmed a bit, trying to look at him.

"Let me. Please." Even if it was just this once, he wanted to comfort them. Even if they didn't remember that they used to ask him to do this, he was sure they still needed it, this reassurance that someone was nearby. 

"Alright," they whispered, giving in quicker than he expected. "Good night, Gabriel."

Gabriel turned off the lights with a thought, cast a protection ward over them with another. He knew they felt it settle, but they didn't say anything else. "Sweet dreams, Beelzebub," he murmured.

He didn't let himself doze off until he felt them fall asleep his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small dry pieces of bread = saltines. Gabriel doesn't know food names and it's hilarious. I like to think he used to call tea leaf water before Beelzebub or Aziraphale shamed it out of him.
> 
> I may or not have made a Spotify playlist for them. Let me know if I should change the chapter titles to the songs in the list!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 1,000 hits? That's a milestone I've never hit before, y'all. Thank you!

Sunrise found Beelzebub in bed. They slipped back into consciousness gradually, groggy and confused. They couldn't quite remember what had happened the night before yet. This was why they didn't like sleeping; it left them far too disoriented.

Slowly they became aware of an arm around their waist. They stiffened as a face nuzzled into their hair. "Good morning, darling," came Gabriel's muffled voice. 

They struggled to recall why, exactly, he was in their bed. They remembered falling asleep on the sofa, their nightmare, the tea, and finally Gabriel insisting they get some sleep. "What time is it?" They asked. 

Gabriel hummed as he thought. "Around 7am, I believe." Beelzebub didn't reply, focused on the warmth of him pressed against their back. "You can go back to sleep, if you need." 

They shrugged. Truth be told they were still tired, but they had so much work to do. "I shouldn't," they muttered. 

He swept their hair aside and pressed his lips against the back of their neck. "Go back to sleep, Beelzebub. Or else fight me to get up. I'm not so inclined to let you go," he teased. His arm tightened around their waist. 

They shivered as his words traced themselves at the top of their spine. "Gabriel, you better not leave any freckles back there," they replied, only pretending to sound stern. 

"Have I left any before?" 

"You're lucky Dagon didn't see the mark you left on me. She walked in on me changing yesterday before the meeting." Beelzebub fought to roll over and face him. He let them, though he grabbed their hip again once they were face-to-face. 

He huffed, but he was smiling as he spoke. "You should have let her see it," he told them. He reached his free hand up to gently prod the dark patch at the base of their throat. "I have a feeling she already knows something is going on between us." 

Beelzebub shifted slightly, exposing their throat a little more so he could better view his handiwork. "I'm sure she'll figure it out soon, if she hasn't already. I don't stay topside unless I'm on assignment. Unless I fabricate a report, she'll know." They didn't know how they felt about Dagon knowing about this. 

Gabriel didn't reply for a while, fixated as he was on the mark on their throat. His fingers kept dancing around the edges of it. Beelzebub noticed a small set of scars on two of his fingers, in the shape of teethmarks. They remembered biting him at the park and stifled a laugh. Had he forgotten to get rid of the wound, or had he left it there in purpose? 

"It could be dangerous, her knowing about this," said Gabriel finally. 

Beelzebub shook their head. "She wouldn't tell anyone. There is no one she could tell, without me being destroyed by Lucifer or the Dukes. I doubt she would want a position transfer after all this time." 

Gabriel pulled them closer, flush against his chest. Their hands came up instinctively to keep some distance. "Don't talk about being destroyed," he muttered. "Not now. Not when I just found you." 

"Calm down, Gabriel," replied Beelzebub. "I'm not going anywhere." They neglected to mention that they kind of couldn't, even if they wanted to. 

His eyes were shining, ablaze with some emotion they couldn't quite place. "Good. If they want to destroy you, they will have to take me first." 

They chose not to state the obvious, instead allowing themself to press closer to his chest, craving the warmth. There was something supremely soothing about being so close to another for the sheer leisure of it. He held them carefully, like he was afraid to hurt them. If they weren't so tired, they might have laughed at the sheer idea of it. 

They didn't mean to fall asleep again, but they must have. When they opened their eyes again, he was gone and the comforter was tucked gently around them. In a half-asleep panic, they bolted upright and looked about frantically. "Gabe?!" 

Footsteps echoed outside, and the door pushed open to show him. He looked concerned. "Beelzebub? What's wrong?" He asked. 

Beelzebub slumped forward in relief as he came further into the room. "I thought you were gone," they mumbled. A drop of water hit their hand, and they realized it was a teardrop. Horrified, they scrubbed at their eyes. "I don't know why I got so scared." 

"Beelzebub, are you crying?" He knelt by the bed, much like he had the night before. 

"I don't know why," they repeated. "It's stupid. Demons don't cry." 

Gabriel shrugged. He wasn't really an authority on that matter, so he deferred to them. "I wonder what triggered your fear," he thought aloud. "It could be... no, never mind. Are you alright now?" 

They reached around him and grabbed their ring off of the nightstand. "I'll be fine. I need to go to my office. No doubt Dagon is wondering where I am, and I need to look through my files." They met his questioning gaze and smiled innocently. "If Dagon figures out what's between us, I'll need a plausible argument for Lucifer and the Dukes." 

"I wish you did not need to prepare for that scenario, but I suppose it would not hurt to be careful," he told them. He pushed a lock of hair behind their ear and leaned up to kiss their cheek. "I should also make preparations. If Michael discovers I found you again, they will undoubtedly try to destroy us both. There are very few places we could hide from them, but..." 

Beelzebub nodded. "I don't think running would help," they admitted. 

"Nor do I. My preparations will be more along the lines of securing a residence on Earth, and informing Aziraphale that Michael may be Earthside to look for me. If I am not outright cast to Hell or tossed into Hellfire, I will certainly be turned into a human." To Beelzebub's surprise, he didn't seem terribly concerned. On the contrary, the look of determination on his face made their own resolve harden.

"I hope it doesn't come to that," they whispered. With a snap of their fingers, they were in their normal attire again. The ring was fitted back into the medallion around their neck. "Once I finish my research, I'll find a way to get word to you. Perhaps Crowley could be persuaded to assist, though I doubt he will be as accepting of our unintentional hypocrisy as Aziraphale was." 

Gabriel laughed. "Oh. Compared to Aziraphale, Crowley will be simple to deal with. I had never heard Aziraphale lose his temper before yesterday. No wonder he was chosen to guard the Eastern Gate of Eden." He stood up and extended a hand to Beelzebub, who allowed him to pull them to their feet. 

"Then I guess I have no choice but to try to reach him. With any luck, I'll see you soon." They stepped past him and reached for the door.

"Shall I meet you here once you contact me?" 

Beelzebub paused, hand on the doorknob. "No, Dagon knows where this flat is. I don't suppose you've got anywhere? Thought not. Meet me at the London Eye, then. There's so many humans there during the day that Heaven wouldn't dare come after you. I'll send a time with the message." 

Gabriel nodded, swiftly taking off his ring and slipping it into his pocket. "Be careful, darling. I could not stand to lose you again." 

He was gone before Beelzebub could react, the prick. They growled at the flush on their face as they materialized in their office. 

Unfortunately, Dagon was occupying their spare chair. It was clear she had been waiting for their arrival. "There you are, Lord Beelzebub," she said. 

Beelzebub raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong, Dagon?" 

"Only the fact that you've been gone for hours without letting anyone know where you were gone off to. That's unlike you, even if you were on assigment." Dagon leaned forward. She sniffed, then her eyes narrowed.

They sat down in their chair and purposefully avoided looking at her as they grabbed a paper and began writing. "My business is my own, Dagon," they snapped. "It's not your place to question me." 

"Cut the bullshit, Beelzebub," Dagon hissed. She lowered her voice. "It most certainly is my business when you come into the office smelling like one of the angels." 

Beelzebub went still. "What?" 

Dagon rolled her eyes. "Has your nose dulled? You've got angel scent all over you. And everyone knows you would have been bitching like mad at an assignment like that." She looked down, clearly trying to read Beelzebub's handwriting from upside down. "So who is it?" 

They waved their hand, locking the door and placing a ward over the room so they could speak freely. "Dagon, you really don't want to get involved. I promise you, it's only going to end poorly." They hated they were so confident about that, but there was simply no other way this could go. 

"I do want to get involved. You may be my boss, Lord Beelzebub, but you're also the closest thing I've got to a friend. And I'm the closest you have. So shut the fuck up and tell me what's happened before I beat it out of you." 

"How many times have I told you don't have to call me Lord when we're alone, Dagon?" Beelzebub stalled. They reached up to touch their medallion as they flicked their wrist to open a file cabinet, and noticed Dagon stiffen. She was up in a flash, following some scent over to the cabinet. Belatedly Beelzebub realized what she must have smelled. "Dagon, wait-" 

She looked between them and the drawer, then reached down and pulled out a pile of soft, light grey fabric. "_Gabriel_?" she hissed. "Of all the angels upstairs, it's Archangel Gabriel? I can't believe you, Lord Beelzebub, what's gotten into you?" 

Beelzebub shrugged and looked down at their paper again. "It was an accident," they said carefully. 

"Having his scarf isn't an accident, Beelzebub," Dagon retorted. She tossed the fabric on their desk and came to stand next to them. "Do you realize how much trouble you'll be in if Lucifer finds out?" 

Beelzebub nodded, gesturing to the report they were writing. "I've got a plan. Sit down, you're making me nervous. I'll tell you the full story while I write this up." 

Dagon sat reluctantly, and Beelzebub draped the scarf around their shoulders so they could see their work. Gabriel's scent, nauseatingly enough, was calming. 

Beelzebub gave Dagon the short version of the past month's events, leaving out their discovery of their apparent past and some other minor details they knew Dagon wouldn't want to hear. All the while, they kept writing, condensing their retelling on paper as well. 

"That's a pretty daunting series of events," Dagon finally replied. "So what's your plan?" 

There was a brief silence as Beelzebub finished the report and levitated it into the filing cabinet. They didn't put the scarf back; they'd have to find a better hiding spot than that. "If anyone stumbles upon us and stops to question me before destroying me, I've got the report. Mostly fabricated, of course but it should do the trick. After all, it's not every day one gets the perfect opportunity to corrupt an archangel." 

Dagon's eyes widened as she caught on. "Oh, that's bloody brilliant."

"This whole plan is contingent on you not breathing a word of this to anyone, understood?"

"I'm no snitch. Think of all the fucking paperwork." Dagon rolled her eyes, then leaned forward. "So, has he fucked you yet?" 

Beelzebub snorted. "As if he'd top. And no, not that it's any of your business." The hand that was still fiddling with the medal moved up, pulling aside their collar to show Dagon the mark on their throat. "He did leave this, though. Never thought an angel would be possessive." 

"Hm, interesting. Leave it to the Lord of the Flies to discover some nasty shit like that," Dagon teased. She stood up and stretched. "The Dukes are having some sort of meeting come nightfall, your presence is requested. Think Hastur mentioned that info Michael was supposed to get to you." 

Beelzebub huffed. "I'll check my fax machine. Why they can't just send emails like everyone else, I'll never understand. Dismissed." 

Dagon stepped into a mock salute, then flounced out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Beelzebub had to admire her bluntness. Yes, they could be blunt when needed, but they preferred mind games, feeding on doubt and insecurities. Gluttony, after all. But Dagon hadn't even hesitated to confront them about Gabriel's scent. 

Speaking of, they probably needed a shower before the meeting. If Dagon could smell him on them, no doubt the other Dukes would be able to. And there was also the matter of hiding the scarf... 

They sighed. So much to do, so little time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea that Dagon and Bee are actually pretty close and have 'bitching sessions' about work sometimes. And since it's my fic, I can make it canon.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, I sometimes post art on my tumblr as well, which is arrowcreates. There's no pressure to follow me (the account has like 2 followers anyway)


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